So you want to make my day?

There I sit being polite,cooperative and listening in the ILS Quarterly meeting and I am blind-sided by Jill telling me that someone in the Office of the Secretary of State is editing our ILS blog postings, correcting grammar, adding pictures and other stuff that makes it better... I was almost ready to blow the building up, I have calmed down since and am not interested in getting the proper amounts of stuff to make mayhem happen, leave it all to the next earthquake or volcanic erruption.

I really think that helpful editing is like the defensive player tipping a beautiful spiral pass.... it isn't going to hit the target, not the way the passer intended.

So, OSOS, I think I am off of the library blog business - I really thought that a blog of institutional library folks with challenges, successes, passions and problems would be read by others in the library community, just because. Not everything can be entertainment nor entertaining, many of the blogs I read are just about what the author thinks worth writing or posting. And they go from awesome beautiful pictures to heart wrenching sadness and the Blues at their blueist. I know that when I did something worthy (not often as I should have hit it out of the park) I want to record it, I don't think I need to know who read it, nor why (they could just be trying to understand English from America) but I don't need anyone to edit my postings to their own direction.

Well, I am not going to do more than think there are an amazing number of fools and foolishness in the World, and continue to pretend that I am not one of them... I can fool myself most of the time.

It is a Library, so of course it is quiet, kind of...

Had to tell an inmate not to bring his coffee into the library, no food nor drink allowed. He thought if he told me I should have a sign that he could stay with his coffee. Nope, I am a cranky old man and I want the rules obeyed. He put the coffee in the hall outside, then worried that someone would steal it.

I have been training the clerks in their new jobs, getting books processed and keeping things moving, not as fast as normal but trying to stomp out the little fires before they get to be big ones. This morning, because some inmates may have been outside the fence in civilian clothing, there was a total RECALL, Lock up, and Picture Card Count. That was a three hour exercise in making sure no one is missing, no one was missing but I was about three hours behind. I have some real workers so they came in as soon as they could and we caught back up.

On the work email was more of almost total silence. I had mentioned a couple days ago (Monday?) that it didn't seem like any of the other branches were open - not true, they piped up when they caught up enough to check the email. I had over nine hundred circs on Monday, 730 on Tuesday, and about 330 today - only open a few hours today. I need those books processed and linked before I go ordering new book carts for this month - not that they have a budget amount for me yet, but I can build the cart if I know what I have already.

Finish the June reports tomorrow, order supplies and try to get more done since I have only four and a half years left before I retire on Social Security and go find another job to keep me solvent.

Friday, week four of Keegan...

He gets a picture taken today, and he is still in Hawai'i. Lucky fellow.

End of my work week:

The library was cleaned this morning, I have finished requesting a hundred and two InterLibrary Loans (ILLs), fifteen are already in shipping status and two more have been rejected. I didn't get another twenty-five because I couldn't find the title wanted. All reserves and ILLs on the shelves ready for pick up. The purchase order shopping was delivered today (ten big boxes of books!) with three UPS ILLs, and two boxes of J.L. Marcus catalogs (hmm and what they want is EastBay). The overdues are done, restrictions applied, and notices printed and addressed for distribution, the patron status is closer to being correct, since I have been deleting the released and re-assigned patrons. The emails are still a bit out of control, but working through them as I can. I should get ready for the weekend, MICC is totally ready for business. I did test and interview six applicants for the open position on Wednesday, but haven't had any assignment from the Job Center for filling the position. I did file for my travel and I did report my computer needs during upgrade.

I need more paper for my printer at home, I need to finish the yard, I need to rest and review before going to the Appleseed in Monroe this weekend and I should get off the computer... take care out there. My wife mentioned that famous people die young, and I told her that she and I will live a long, long time.

Well, there are heroes and there are heroes.... and I

ain't quite the hero some would want me to be but:

I also want to take this opportunity to let you know how fantastic Earl is and how much we really appreciate having him here at MICC. He is a pleasure to work with, always dependable, keeps things organized and running smoothly in the library and he did an outstanding job in the library to prepare for and during our ACA audit.

Thank you for the comment about Earl! He has a real "heart" for the branch and the work that he does there. I am happy that ACA went well for you and that we are able to help in that effort.

Just sit there long enough and it will pass by...

There is a bench somewhere in New York City, where if you sit on it long enough the World will pass you by. Or that is just New Yorker's urban myth. But yesterday I was at the Institutional Library Services Quarterly Conference with the Gang of 3 (Managerial Supervisors) and the library keepers of all the different branches of the Washington State Library in service to those patrons in the institutions. And the State Librarian was there to brief us on the larger library world, the truth about budgets in State government and her hopes for the future, and of course, our future. I will have a post about that later, but she did something surprising, she called me up and presented me with my Ten Year Service Certificate and pin, the certificate signed by our Secretary of State, Sam Reed, a fine man - personal hero and protector of the Washington State Library - having saved us from the evil Governor Locke that hated us and wanted to save dollars instead of minds.

That will be a bit much, may have to edit that later because Governor Locke wasn't evil, just didn't wield an ax well, and this is timber country - and ax wielding should be right up there with other Scandinavian skills. Back to me.

Ten years ago, hired full time, to function in an institutional library, working with a librarian and another assistant librarian (working on associate status), with four inmate library clerks. Ten years later I am a Library Archival Paraprofessional level 5, working with four inmate library clerks - and one of the original clerks is still in the institution driving a fork lift in the compound. Now I was exiled, by budget, to the State Library for a couple of years, but eight years have been riding the ferry to work and home, five days a week and taking care of library business, and if my Scanner weren't sitting broken beside this computer I would have included the certificate. I am amazed that I haven't won the Lotto and gone off to golfing (which I am not going to ever do) or some other retired pursuit, but very satisfied that I do the job where I seem to be the most needed, and except for Earl slips in compliance and policy paying attention - I am very in line with the objective mission of the Organization.


Mission Statement -- With spirit and fortitude, ILS branch staff enhances the quality of life for unique populations by providing a welcoming, neutral and secure place where informational, educational and recreational needs are met.

So in Las Vegas...

Several major Entertainment Establishments have run up against a string of bad luck - the house's bad luck - percentages were on their side but something happened and suddenly they weren't raking in a constant profit of the house's share of the slots and the tables. People weren't coming as much and the ones that did were going home loaded! Imagine, the Entertainment Establishments kept the glitter and talked the talk and walked the walk - but things were shaky. The High Rollers kept coming because the word was out and the stakes were high and it was time to come and get theirs. They came in droves, no one could lose a bet. The Casinos were on the ropes, families weren't coming, the little stuff was just the compulsive gamblers and they were winning, too. How could this happen?

Since the lights were about to go off in Vegas, the joy gone and the ripple effect of the collapse of the entertainment industry threatened the economic security of Nevada, then California (what to do with hundreds of unemployed chorus girls in feathers?). The FEMA was called in before the total collapse, it would have been the Treasury but they were busy saving Wall Street. Bugsy would have been proud, the mob wins again...

Sorry, the story is so short, the economy is built on work and it is nice to have credit for those things one really needs and can repay - but loan sharks and creditor slavery weren't lawful once upon a time, and they aren't really what keeps America functioning. Did you ever see the collapse of America on Banking Holidays, weekends or because the big money guys were off to Europe or the Caribbean stashing their loot? I don't really think I need them, do you? Nope, you don't have multi-million dollar political campaigns to finance, do you?

Good news,

I watched my second DVD on shooting, sitting position and then kind of practiced it - does the need to have stretched in the last fifteen years enter your life lately? It is knocking on my door, sometimes I just hate the limber youth... but I do know how to stretch, slowly, and will add that to my things I do to make my wife laugh. I won't talk about her limberness.

In the email is the notice that I will receive my M1 soon, and that is fast! Can't send stuff like that through the mail, but FedEx will have it at my door by 10:30 AM, requires one adult wife to sign for it.

I am off to shave, shower and depart on Trusty to work -- real work! at McNeil Island Corrections Center Library, okay! And tomorrow - I refuse to bore y'all, I am riding to Whidbey Island for a charity motorcycle run, keeping the rubber side down. Happy Friday!

Later edit: Great day trying to catch up at the Library - it didn't happen, but I was busy all day and laughing most of it. Came riding home boldly on the motorcycle thinking about tomorrow, met wife and had dinner, opened FedEx box and looked at my new (well, to me) M1, very nice, and it fits me, so well! So to celebrate I took my wife for a walk in the park, looking at the ducks and the black berries and listening to about five different bird calls as we walked around, this another wonderful day. Thank the Lord.

When there isn't anything to do about it...

I have been busy trying to keep up with work, reports and draft programs - and maintain a position of being in charge of my life at the same time. Good news, the homes on both sides of mine have been sold and they will be moving in before August arrives, my wife tells me we will have to start watering the grass. I have been being tugged into temptations of buying a military rifle, but I don't go running down to the local gun shops to shop, didn't I tell you that I have been busy? I have been, while resisting the urge to go buy, thinking of getting the rifles out and shooting them instead of the pistols. So I re-read Jeff Cooper and prepare to read Wayne Van Zwoll for more guidance. But in the end Bill Mauger will be the one talking me through each shot, like we were again in the high school gym firing target rifles, with slings and shooting jackets at target too tiny to tell. One shot at a time. Back when one could get an education, a broad education, in school.

Happy Friday, First Day of Summer and it is...

Noticed while riding my motorcycle to work, that it was a great day. My workday planned out, a hundred and fifty new items to link and circulate, ILLs to request, patron information requests to answer and the Sun would be with us all day. That was how it went and the day was fine, I have about three hours of work on Monday, open one hour for patrons, then I close until Wednesday, my son is coming home before heading off to Hawaii. His room has been cleaned and prept, the spare bathroom is off limits to me - my wife has cleaned it and left the silent notice that I had better not mess it up. I have motorcycle safety stuff on Saturday morning, a Patriot Guard mission for the last units of the 4th Brigade of the 2nd Infantry Division, returning from Iraq in the afternoon, then a Homeowners meeting and grass cutting and house cleaning after that.

I will say our cold wet Spring seems to have been beaten back by Summer Sun, but most people feel it is only an illusion, the rain will return. The only temperate Rainforest is just across the Sound and it doesn't dry out in the Summer. Tacoma got to eighty-three degrees today, but Spokane got even higher so our season is officially and beautifully changed. Have a great one!

There is only one... of me and watch how you step

I was about to do something bad, but got distracted and wrote some replies and that has me on a roll in a different direction... it wasn't evil, just bad, which in degree is almost always excusable, or so I would tell myself if I were caught. Since I haven't done anything bad this morning it must be going to be a beautiful day. Anyway, back to the thought in the title.

There is only one of me, and I am, by law, a taxpayer - so why are there so many layers of government taxing me? What have I done to deserve so much painful attention and extraction? Is it that I was born, that I work, that I invest, that I can smile and think about pretty young women? Is it that I as an individual don't get to decide, my one vote among millions just doesn't count. If I were a Senator in Washington DC I would only have ninety-nine others that would water down my choice, in Congress a few hundred others. If I were a state I would be one of fifty. They (THE POWERS THAT BE) seem to have designed the entire system so I feel I have choice and opportunity to vote - but the reality is that my vote doesn't count, in Washington they keep counting until King County gets a number that picks the proper Governess, and in Florida and Ohio the courts get to decide what a proper vote is until the correct President is selected, or something like that. If I sat out the election it would upset them (THE POWERS THAT BE) only if large bunches of me's would, since I am only one taxpayer and voter, it doesn't bother them at all. All the former Felons can't vote and there are several million of them - wow, several million disenfranchised people? Nah, there can't be that many, can there? Well, back to the important ONE, me, the taxpayer the individual person serving so many Masters.

Federal Government, State Government, County Government (City Government too if you live in the proper locations) - why do they feel the need to suck from my little pile of plunder? I work hard for that, and I do understand that my taxes, with all the blood sucked from other taxpayers build schools, roads, defend my home and country, promote greatness and periodic goodness and in general I am all for that. Here in the Great Northwest, there was a Kingdome and it was home to two professional teams, one baseball and one football - they used the dome for other stuff as well. But the teams, which make lots of money in their seasons, decided they needed new, better places to play, and wanted some of my pile of plunder to pay for it. They could have taken my ticket money and used it, but they decided that the taxpayer needed to make Seattle a first class sports city. The taxpayers voted NO - and they (The Local POWERS THAT BE) went around and over that vote and assumed the bonds and built the wonders and the teams play on. Now why would I want my grandchildren to pay for the lost Kingdome, the current venues and such? I am the fellow that is working to pay off my current debts so no one has to assume them if I crash on my motorcycle - I have insurance coverage to pay every debt I currently have off if I die - but they (THE POWERS THAT BE) are counting on more little taxpayers to pay off their excesses, sigh. What happens when we stop producing more little tax payers?

Ah, well, it isn't really important, I am only one - that is why the system is designed like this, and if I really wanted to I could become one of THE POWERS THAT BE, and live on top of the pile. But then I like myself a bit more where I worked to be a better person, a gentle man, and only the LAW makes me a taxpayer, a voter, a citizen. How much do I count the LAW? not too much : I am me because of my parents and grandparents, friends, relations, lovers, and mostly I am because of the Great I AM, and never because of THE POWERS THAT BE. There is only one of me.

How we work wonders in the world...

I found this fine picture of a well worn warrior, and I immediately knew this guy knows how to do his job observing and slamming enemy with massive death from a far, and I laughed at the people that were trying to justify his wearing his uniform and weapon that particular way, the shaggy hair and unshaven cheek -- maybe they never went where one is hoping for just a bit more sleep, a little more hot food and enough water to drink between those "one must pay attention or die" events in combat zones... maybe. Not being in the death dealing business any longer I still observe and am glad there are soldiers serving, and really glad there are very capable soldiers serving.

--

Three posts with pictures with guns and one would think that I don't know I work in the dusty dry book circulation circles. But I do know it, I am at a quarterly conference for the Institutional Library Servers (really 'Services') - those heroically manning the libraries out in the prisons and mental institutions of Washington State. We are exchanging views and news about ourselves and our work, and learning about the future, the budget, the priorities and our new assignments. I have to figure out which elected officials should be invited to our libraries, to see what we do on a daily basis and show them how they could help. I will be watched carefully - politics are a very careful business for those that want to survive (walking on fragile flooring). We worked on a future blog for public view (no it isn't ready yet, we have little idea of what we can do, but lots of thoughts about what we want to do), it was interesting watching someone create at blinding typing speeds and then going back and changing much to protect us innocents and crafting a better product. One critical goal is to get our vacancies out where interested library workers can find them - I guess I could put some links on my blog, but then I would be thinking lots of library professionals and paraprofessionals visit, and that isn't true just wistful thinking.

So one more day of conference and exchange of ideas, then back into our solitary sanity in the middle of chaos central - the institutional library. Helping find that special book, piece of music or information for our patron's purpose, always hoping that their lives and our world becomes better for our efforts. Never totally alone, there are telephones, emails, fax machines and some really great people working in the institutions and institutionalized... for whatever reasons befell them there. May your world be in harmony today... even if you can't ride your motorcycle.

Bit by Alligator, swamp still flooded and nasty...

I lost the battle today, the war is over. Mission last Bureaucracy always, sigh. Tomorrow I will talk to my liaison about how impotent I am, no longer able to get a couple bins of books up to F-unit and back. They did make me take down the chin up bar in the library that the guys and I were having fun improving our strength on - seems one could imagine someone falling off and hurting one self, and a library is not a gymnasium (although they have more in common than I think).

I have a heart problem, I care too much, and I am a State employee and shouldn't care at all - I am not an elected official. My job is to do what is required, not to inovate, not to assume, presume, nor to think of solutions. If it is broken, just report it, don't try to fix it. I do have a problem. If the mission weren't so important I think I would take that boring eight hour day at the Public Library.

I was wondering at my three neophytes, they still aren't working hard enough, nor fast enough and certainly not smart enough. But they are trying.. they try me all day long. I was telling one of them about something he needed to correct, and he said I never say anything good about his work, which I am sure isn't correct, I always point out good things, little victories are important in life and I do point them out. Then another one wandered away from where I wanted him to work, and he has at least sixty reference books to become familiar with, but he doesn't see that as useful, yet. But the one that got my blood boiling was the smartest of the three, the mature and sure of his importance one - he interrupted my work flow because he couldn't help a customer with shipping charges from JC Penny. He told me that both catalogs didn't have the data for shipping cost, guessing that someone had ripped them out. So I looked at both catalogs after looking in the back for the extras - which I didn't find - the pages with ordering instructions to include the shipping costs were in both catalogs and I showed the customer, and yelled - LOUDLY - at the inmate library clerk, "I need competence, I don't need you to tell me that something is beyond your ability to find it!" Not good form, old chap, expecting someone that could be caught, tried and covicted of a crime to be competent. Not good form at all.

I was upset by all those alligators and the rising waters, but we knocked out a lot of work today. We did pull and check out to F-unit, sixty seven items - we just aren't delivering. I did link and put into the collection sixty-five items, some purchased and sent to us and the others donated, which means my experienced hard working and mostly quiet clerk prepared, stripped and stamped, covered in mylar, or book taped the spines over the call numbers he typed up -- those same books. While he and I processed out and in ILLs, and did requests for more ILLs, and accounted for some missing so far. And the overdues are done and out in circulation to the patrons, with a new clerk learning that job, a bit. Lots accomplished.

Well, I did talk to some customers, help find some stuff, and made a fool of self - another completely good day at the prison library. So when I check my Lotto ticket and find I am the big winner, should I quit and allow someone better to take that cushy job? Don't know, but the motorcycle ride home was fun, something new to work on showed up, and I, like always when I ride and feel like I am flying, I was smiling broadly... very.

Just a fifth of Patience, Black Label, please...

I have three inmate library clerks to train, and it is amazing how little they know about work and life and the library. I have had much success training real workers in the past, they understand work and what kind isn't a problem, for all real work is similar. If I get someone with good life skills I can train them also, great attitude and harmony with the lesser universe and work is just a different instrument to play on and they dance through our work day. I could blame lack of library knowledge on the school system, television or credit cards and book stores -- but it could be they just shouldn't be library clerks if they were never real library patrons - how much customer service can you explain to someone that has never been a customer?

Less than a week on the job and they already want the library to be run differently, they want more creative time, they want to expound on their previous job and how wonderful they did there, they are becoming afraid to ask questions of me (have I been biting their heads off, or just am snappy having little tolerance for stupidity). I emphasized that they must look at the computer screen as they scan barcodes, and make sure they are doing what they think they should. But they know everything about computers and it doesn't look cool to keep looking at work instead of holding a wonderful conversation. Another shot of patience, please.

They don't understand they have so much more to learn, one shouldn't spend time sitting when the boss spends his time on his feet, that fellow needs more time shelf reading and shelving. When they get a chair and abuse it, it becomes a throne and overthrowing Kings is part of my past I don't like dwelling on and hardly want to repeat. My work is cut back and I have only two more days to try and finish February well - which is only a personal goal, but it is one of the only man I respect almost completely -- me. I do know a bit too much about his dark(inner)side, still he doesn't have much faith in excuses performing to expectations.

There is one advantage in their slow work habits, they can't get ahead of me, even when they try they are falling behind the power curve - it is all mine. The experienced clerk and I laugh a lot about the new guys, but then we keep hoping tomorrow they will be a bit better and learn another lesson or two. We are making them earn that forty-two cents an hour, shouldn't I get some extra compensation, too? Another shot of that patience, please. All my rewards are waiting in Heaven, going to get stuck in the library there, too?

Back on to my hamster wheel!

I only took five days off in vacation, ABC World News reports that 468 million days of American's vacation aren't taken each year - fear of being found un-essential? Perhaps.

I looked forward to opening the library and getting things straight. New books and supplies had come in, there were two large book return bins to empty and check in and shelve. Six pages of emails to go through, the Valentine's Day foolishness was amazing viewed in one day with the real work wrapped around it.

Seems my boss fired one of my workers - he left and she just wanted to beat someone up. Down to two untrained and one brown guy she endured. I do remember that I was the last staff to chase off two workers - I must be too demanding and pride does get in the way, doesn't it?

But the library was open, I have started on some of the piles of stuff not done and the day was great for motorcycle riding, although I had the minivan. Tomorrow more hard work, some coordination with my boss and find out what she wants done next, but the library will be open and it will be functioning on three inmate library clerks until the latest ripple in my harmony with the Universe is corrected and smoothed out again. Focus on the positive, there are staff from the Western facilities working in the Eastern facilities because we haven't hired enough replacements and the pace is grueling and the rewards for doing a good job are only internal. The bigger Washington State Library is focused on the Legislative session, but not for the Institutional Library Services. The forgotten few, I keep thinking of those Foreign Legion outposts in desert Africa - no one knew their names.

My cold and sinus problem calls for some more liquid and lots of sleep and it is only six and a half hours until I have to wake for the next work day .... spin that wheel a little faster will you?

Stepping into the Time Machine...

Closed the library on Friday, packed one suitcase for two and departed the Great Northwest. Left the suitcase in Chicago when we changed planes and our best laid plans. The library will be opened one day while I am gone - which means I am not important, or the library isn't or that four days of closure are just more punishment for the guilty. Could be that it has no meaning and no one will notice my shift into the future.

We are visiting my mother for her birthday, she was eighty on the 12th of February, born in a hospital in Uruguay in 1928 and living now in an upscale retirement home in almost Dixie. We find ourselves moving slower, speaking clearer and completely or else repeating ourselves to be understood. My slight limp from the motorcycle mishap has nothing on the number of Scooters, wheel chairs and fourteen types of walkers and canes. I find myself greeting everyone, saying hello with a smile and looking into everyone's eyes. I notice those that are doing things for other people seem the healthiest, happiest and most mobile, a secrect of success?

My sister shows up and hugs my wife and greets me and I immediately tell her to slow down, there isn't anything here to hurry over - she has just stepped out of her hamster wheel in her cage - she needs to adjust (slowly) to our future. We get her coffee and help her wrap a gift and talk (still too fast but we can keep up)about family elsewhere and what is going on and what is important. We don't mention politics nor celebrities.

A former sister-in-law joins us and we attack the set up of the area for the party/reception (elders have a very different party idea - no beer keg in sight). I do the thug work, five women and I just take orders and lift and tote. For fun I get to blow up the baloons, red and pink. Nice set up, nice cake and and most of the local world came to say hello, I get told I look like my father by all that knew him from his time in their world. My mother is having a wonderful time saying thankyous and explaining the pictures from the albums and years ago and far away. I have noted many pictures that I had never seen - some with a much younger fellow I could have been, except never that cute.

Party over, mother sleeping in her throne, we clean up and check the weather, sister decides she can safely return to the hamster wheel in her cage. Wish her well and a safe voyage - back to the place they depend on her for W-2s and payroll, and heartfelt hugs and good advice about home and life. She is speeding up as she turns to go... no time for my hug, but she and I aren't ever that far apart; we both wear LL Bean slip ons, and laugh immediately at the same funny, my sister.

I have a couple of more days for scouting the territory of the ancient, aged, aging, and just older than dirt. We met a ninety-nine year old at the party - she was a wonder. But knowing math the way I do, the women out numbered the men six or seven to one in that age group, I might not make that twenty year trip; I do ride a motorcycle and love to look leeringly at lovely looking ladies (not really, I just wanted to play with L's). I will continue to tell my wife she will miss me when I am gone, and I will continue to jog gently (85% of MHR) when I get back to "my" normal life pace and the walking race into the Prison from the ferry. Work harder work faster... but that is the subject of another post on another day.

Help wanted!

Needed two library clerks, seems that I ran the other two off, I was too demanding? I just walk around saying "work harder, work faster" and they were driven off. Sad, I thought one of them was going to be really good, but he seemed to shatter under the interruptions of his harmonic motions.

So I put out a call with the job center and seven men showed up for testing, and four were satisfactory for the two positions. Three of the four had real problems with the Dewey system, don't I love a challenge? Then I have to pause and contemplate and review their interviews, and pause and contemplate. While I did that I had them all shelving books - and shelf reading, which we really needed, and I contemplated and got a telephone call from the Public Library asking if I could be available for a second job interview next week. No, I am visiting my mother on her birthday, so the suggestion was a telephone interview on Thursday or Friday. I said okay, just call and I will answer. I wonder why they would want someone like me, and then I really wonder if they don't know the other people would be better than I -- there is a reason that I do well on a prison island, in the library helping patrons with their needs.

I made a choice - picking the most educated and difficult to work with, and the least educated and almost slow to understand but very willing to work. After making my choices, notifying and talking and working the remainder of the day I think I should have taken one of the other applicants - since his testing and interview weren't the best but I liked watching him work with others and solving problems - the fellow with all the education is already trying to influence the environment, me and the crew - and I only want him to shelve and shelf read right now. Well, I do know the names of the two also rans, and the one that impressed me with his work, and I did some talking to him about how he could have done better in the testing and interview - you only get one first impression, but after that you build a reputation.

Nice Cold Clear Day - Mount Rainier stands out

I want to ride my Triumph, because I am excited at so much Sun and all this free time, the cold doesn't even affect me - I see others in leathers on their motorcycles and they are having more fun than I in my minivan on my way to visit a public library. Why not me?

I think I should have my sunglasses on, I think about the interview, I think about friends, I park and visit the library and set their alarm off twice as I go in and out and then about - checking the new books on their shelves; Westerns, Mysteries, and Sci-fi. I meet my friend and we talk and that makes the day worthy, offered to put a good word in for me - but enough remember me from before I will go with the interview alone. I am early, I am invited in and addressed as "William" which I correct to "Earl" - these ladies don't know me, and I have never met them. Maybe I have changed too much as I aged, one of the pages I worked with before didn't remember me when I said 'Hi' either, it has been almost ten years since I worked for that library.

I am introduced and we touch common grounds before the questioning begins, the rules established, the language appropriate. Information Services is hiring one Library Associate, first question is what do I do now that would be helpful in their library and that position. I recite all that I remember that I do - and it is a long list, when their last question outlines the duties I would have in their library I realize that I won't be doing as much as I do now, and being only one of many I will be under appreciated. Still I answer the questions honestly, relaxed and with a little humor. My wife's advice was to not talk too much - since they are trying to write it all down I do think and then respond appropriately. Thirty minutes later the interview is over, they told me what the maximum pay was (if I worked there a long, long time) per hour. I shook their hands, for some reason the woman with gloves on the entire time upset my harmony, and I didn't like shaking the gloved hand, it was cold in that large room but two of us didn't have gloves on.

I drove home, counting two more motorcyclists going in my direction and one coming against the traffic. I considered that I probably won't get called - over qualified and too independent - hard to supervise, but would remain on their list for a year and maybe more interviews as new holes appear in their staff. My inside informants have said the budget talk has been very quiet, the personnel problems haven't changed much. I decide that the motorcycle needs a run in the cold clear air... time to breath, time to roar. I get home and take off the tie and interview gear, put on sweats, extra layers, mask, turtleneck sweat shirt and boots. Get the good warm gauntlets down and the full face helmet. Open the door, roll the bike out, turn the fuel valve, open choke, turn key, press starter - such lovely improvements over the kick starter of my first motorcycle (I don't have to prove I am a man any longer?). Close garage doors, put on helmet, adjust gauntlets, get on motorcycle, turn off choke, roll throttle, release, disengage clutch, tap into first gear - roll down drive and onto the street and adventures.

Others are going home and I am going against the traffic, and I fly (both wheels on the ground) and I fly. Stop at the Harley-Davidson dealer to see what is there, and nothing calls to me, I am too particular about my ideal motorcycle and too content with the Triumph in silver and graphite, even with its wounds, honorably earned the hardway, battle scars and scares, things to talk to my son and friends about over a beer (okay, a coffee). Time to go home and I want to miss all the congestion of the commute - not easy, but I have more flexibility on the motorcycle and I use it - seventy-five in a sixty zone? How did I get that fast, must be an error in the guage, this is the commute and nothing is protecting me, slow down a shade and read the traffic and the road. Very round about route ridden, but I finally get past the herd of migrating motorvehicles of suburbia and scoot home to find my wife dressing for church. Day is gone and it was great.

Holes, how do you fill the holes, and who makes them

I blame budgets, Library budget reality - not enough money and something has to give. Often it is the staffing of the library, and then the hours and the days. So I was hired to work here at McNeil Island in 1998 and there were three Full Time Employees (FTE) one librarian and two paraprofessionals, open over sixty hours a week providing service the the inmates and staff. Then the Governor decided that the Washington State Library must die - to save some dollars or the internet had arrived and the State Library was no longer needed. So he cut the library out of his budget and snarled at the State Librarian who hissed back and arched her back. Okay, maybe not that simple but I was in the trenches not under the center of the State Capital.

The ensuing political fight made the WSL a part of the Office of the Secretary of State (of Washington) and still under limited budget because the Governor still hated us (for whatever reason). The Secretary of State and his henchmen came to visit the Library and see what kind of creature they had adopted, they looked and questioned and were briefed and looked and questioned and were briefed. Then they made some tough, hard decisions - because there wasn't any money in the Library, it had too many employees, books, services and couldn't be folded up and carried around lightly --- so being from timber cutting country they took a chainsaw to it and pruned wildly but with purpose. For political reality shakeup they cut all services to government employees, added services (at the Library) for all citizens of the State, weeded all the frivolous books from the collections, and all the staff books and serials from the branch collections (hoping to get the other Agencies to cough up money for services they once had for free). Although the branch libraries at the mental hospitals and prisons had excellent hours and circulation and were important - they aren't very visible and so they chain saw hit there deeply, first cut one staff, then on another swing cut it all down to one staff per branch. Not Michael Angelo's David but still looks like a bear, and functions like a State Library under constraint. Where I was, the branch was open about twenty hours a week with one full time staff and I was out of a job - after taking a half-time position under the first cut.

I survived, was given a full time position at the State Library down the highway and daily commute, the branches adjusted, the State Library built up a stronger alliance with people that love libraries and use them. By hanging around and long enough the position at McNeil Island opened again and I was allowed to take it, get more training and personally things were good, the State Library is still limping along - still feels under attack - PTSD anyone? Ten years after I was originally hired, there is still a branch library at McNeil Island and providing services to the inmates but not the staff.

Today I took a day off, to go and interview for a position at a public library - where I know they have struggles with budgets, with unions, with management, with City fathers on budget matters - and they still provide a wonderful service to the public, and my inmate patrons through Interlibrary Loan (ILL). Tomorrow I will walk to the dock, take the ferry ride to the island, open my branch and get back to important and not very visible library work with a underserved population - certainly not politically powerful, felons can't vote. If I took work at another library someone would eventually fill the hole, but not soon enough. There isn't an immediate replacement system for workers, only for executives... but I sleep well at night knowing I am needed. A square peg in a round hole is better than nothing in the hole to tie onto.

Fridays fly

Up to the alarms, take the medicine, make the coffee, take the measure of the man, gobble the vitamins and supplements, make the gruel, listen to the news and weather, check the absent email and decide that the motorcycle stays in the stable today, rain is on the way. Shave, dress and grab the pickle, apple and sandwich and out the garage door to the Caravan. Thirteen miles to the parking lot at Western State Hospital, park and put on cap and gloves and start the walk down to the dock. I walk because it is downhill and reminds me of Pennsylvania and it feeds my reputation as "the guy who walks everyday"; others think I do it for my physical fitness, but I know I do it for my mental state, the tranquility of the solitude with nature.
I get on the ferry and find a seat close to the exit, then close my eyes and pretend to meditate or fall deeply into a nap, twenty to thirty minutes worth is another excellent beginning to my day. When the ferry has crossed and is tied up the signal is given to disembark and the race is on, it is Friday and the first five off the boat and up the gangway to the pier are already stretching their legs and picking up the pace. I am one of those racing to get into the prison, to be among the first through the control gates and inside. Every morning the same racers and the same lack of reason for the speed, but they do it anyway. The most difficult part of the quick walk is stepping around and between the goose droppings on the road and sidewalks, it shouldn't bother any of us, it is organic and totally natural and biodegrading... as we speak. We get by the Corrections Officer checking for badges (someone would try to sneak in?) and hit the stairway and take the steps two at a time and then we stop and look back at the herd following slowly behind.
Control allows us through and passes out keys, cuffs and radios to those that need them. I have take-home keys and just go for my distribution pick up and then down the Corridor to the Library. I watch the inmates stroll along, kicking their heels against the tiles, no hurry in them, they aren't going any faster than they want they know the rules - no running. I nod to the ones I need to acknowledge (all that know me and who I am because they use the library) say hello to Officers and inmates that greet me. I unlock the library and start turning it on, taking off my jacket and stuff to stay awhile, change the backup tape, put a new battery in the radio on my belt, type in passwords for the computers and the level of user, go unlock the book return box and switch bins.
When movement is called the crew will report in, I log the time and greet them, the talk dwells on whatever happened since the last we saw each other - dreams, visits, plans for today's work and adjustments in operations. They check for overdues on hold, ILLs, and reserves against the incoming materials. The ILL clerk starts getting the outgoing ILLs bagged and addressed and all the paperwork pulled and the status changed. I look for incoming email, ILL requests and missions from headquarters. The new books are linked and finished processing, the Acquisitions Report checked against our version of reality - and there are too many missing book orders so a lot of typing is done to tell them so. I get to check every outgoing package for content address and then seal it up for shipping. After the morning work is done and Recall is called the crew leaves together and I take the mail and the distribution to the Communications Center and the Mailroom. Dropping off and picking up, somedays there are three bins full with new book boxes and some days only half a bin without the newspapers.
Lunch is alone, in the quiet of the library with a new magazine to browse in front of me, the pickle, sandwich and apple don't take long and I am up and breaking down the mail, newspapers, magazines, and opening incoming ILLs, ours returning or those requested. I go online the log in the reception, print a sheet for the item and give them to the ILL clerk. The crew starts to trickle back in after their lunch, which was not much better than mine but in the company of their peers, under the watch of the Corrections Officers. The book return box is emptied again and the library prepares for the influx of patrons.
I register new patrons, the Chain came in yesterday and the new guys start showing up, I look for information, find books that are asked for and show my clerks how to find Labor Unions in the Yellow pages. The library is humming, actually it is closer to a low roar, but it is a mellow roar not an angry one. Different groups at different tables, the Corrections Officer that monitored the movement into the library cut it off at forty, and sent about twenty inmates away. We weren't open last Friday and these units are a couple of hours behind in library usage. Music across the hallway doesn't seem open today, as the services are cut or closed because of staffing problems or weather the library becomes much bigger an event in the inmates choices for time well spent.
We are open for three periods this afternoon, from 12:40 to 3:45 and the time flies, I am not finished when Recall is sounded and everyone moves out. The crew tells me to have a great weekend and they will see me on Monday, as long as I don't win the Lotto and take off to Hawaii they will. I turn all the computers off, put the radio and certain keys away, I finish typing the missing books on my response to the November report and email it to headquarters and log off the computer. Burned up another day, no boredom and feeling like I have actually helped find the right information for several of the inquiring minds. I turn off the lights, look around and notice the pile of procrastination has expanded, but the Program Manager told me years ago that I would never be able to complete it all and leaving it for the next work day was okay. Ah, but that wasn't how my Fridays are supposed to finish. I lock the doors taking the last distribution out to drop off and head outside the gate to walk down to the waiting ferry boat, not racing this time. I won't think about the library again until Monday morning. The weather is gray but dry and fine, the weatherman lied, I could have ridden my motorcycle and smiled broadly coming and going between work and home, breaking out in laughter periodically when it is perfect. Well, I know dinner awaits and a full list of honey-do needing done, what is a weekend for? All of the above.

Work Alone in a Prison? What kind of fool am I?

I mentioned wanting to look into other employment since I feel alone at work, but then I am a loner so what am I looking for? I did take a test for a job in one Public Library and was called to schedule an interview session with another Public Library System, so I am working at seeing what is out there, but my wife reminded me of what my problem was with the Public Library before, aside from the part-time positions I was working (evenings and weekends, of course). Seems that I had forgotten how bored I was there - you know the times that there isn't a patron in sight, all the work seems done but you dasn't get caught doing nothing by the management - ah, the times when you can only think and check books for status, or start shelf reading. Boring, after all - the excitement is inside the books, on the tapes and cassettes and as staff on tax payer money I only get to use the materials on my time at home. So I went for the full time employment in a prison library and boring it never has been.

http://wastatelib.wordpress.com/ That link is the Washington State Library blog, directly from the State Library building in Tumwater, Washington, and it is boring. I actually worked there in Collections and Media sharing (ILL) once and nice enough people but in the end it was boring, too much time to do so little. When the chance came to return to a prison library I jumped on it and have been very well employed ever since. http://www.secstate.wa.gov/office/employment.aspx is the WSL employment link and you could paste it and visit and look at the offerings, they just don't describe the eight hour days and the mad rush of impatient patrons, all certain the universe revolves around them and only them first... and always. That might scare most gentle library types away...

I expect that if you haven't worked inside a prison that you think there are too many terrible people around and it is dangerous, and that might be almost true. But I have about seven years in prison libraries and only one half-hearted fight the entire time I have been working, the real fights are held elsewhere so they can't be interrupted by staff and the Emergency Response Team (Goon squad to the inmates). The more dangerous problem is staff being influenced to break the rules for an inmate - name the rule and they will try to get a staff member to break it, there are almost as many illegal activities inside a prison as outside. When they put tobacco off limits inside the facility the inmates say it just changed the price of the tobacco - since a heavy smoker still smells like stale smoke, I would have to agree that someone is still smoking.


Still like the world outside the fence, most prisoners (inmates, felons and violators) inside the fence are going about behaving well and getting along. They do demand that staff obey the rules and regulations (although they are sure they are okay to break the ones they need to) and there is a long list of customs and polite manners that other inmates know and dare not break without paying the penalty for crossing the line. Everyone makes choices and stands on what they have chosen to do. I watch, work and talk about this and other things with the questioning patrons and penalized, every work day. One never needs count the minutes and the hours for the days fly full.